Substitute-Chapter 128: 2. Blackout

Every door that opened and closed electronically was forced open.

Every power-consuming electronic machine shut off.

All kinds of systems inside and outside the building stopped, except for those with remaining batteries.

But the power chief in Facilities didn’t think much of the blackout.

This building had always run on self-generation. To prevent power surges and mysterious shutdowns, they’d routinely cut power for inspections, so blackouts were practically everyday life.

The power chief picked up his radio as usual.

“This is Power Base, Volt1, system down. Check the generators. Over.”

[This is Volt1, on site. Checking. Over.]

Sounded like the techs had already reached the generator room—what they liked to call the power plant.

Both the chief and the hands were still relaxed.

The power chief was sure lightning had knocked the generators offline for a moment.

Even if Unit 1 had completely cooked itself, there were two spares. No problem.

He checked his wristwatch.

23:29:44.

Power would be back in a minute, five at most.

His radio crackled as he yawned wide and slouched in his chair.

[Chief, we’ve got a big problem. There’s no fuel to run the generators.]

The repairman shouted, panicked.

A second ago he’d been using call signs like Power Base and on site—now he was rattled enough to forget radio protocol.

“What are you talking about, no fuel. Did you even check properly?”

The chief snapped.

He’d sooner believe they’d seen a ghost. No fuel made no sense.

Tsk, he clicked his tongue.

They didn’t just have enough—they had plenty to spare.

Dozens of fuel tanks were stored in the warehouse right beside the generators.

Shortage? They had enough to last until the Chairman died, and then some.

[Chief, the thing is... there really isn’t a single drop left.]

The radio erupted in noise loud enough to bury the man’s voice.

Three line workers in charge of generator maintenance and repair were shouting at each other.

This was bad.

“Hey, you little—if this is on you—”

[You need to come down here yourself.]

The radio cut off with that.

Fuck. What the hell happened?

The power chief rose from his comfy chair.

Scowling, he left the office with just his radio and a flashlight.

They were underground to begin with, and now in a blackout—he couldn’t see his feet.

Even with the flashlight on, something felt eerie.

A colossal thunderclap—more like an explosion—made him flinch.

“The weather, my ass.”

He opened the emergency exit door.

Thump. Something slammed his face and he dropped on the spot.

Dazed by the sheer pain, he felt blood running from his nose.

Before he could even check who’d hit him, his mouth was gagged, his hands and feet tied, and he was dragged away.

He hadn’t expected anything like this; he had no way to resist.

And he’d asked and asked for a security detail.

He cursed Manager Kim for ignoring their request.

“I’m sorry.”

The young man who’d struck him apologized.

Even then, the chief thought the youth had a nice voice.

“I need your clothes.”

The young man reeked of raw, fishy water.

He must have come inside from out there only moments ago.

Drip, drip—water from the youth’s body and hair soaked the chief’s clothes and face.

He wanted at least to see the face, but the darkness was too thick.

By the time his eyes adjusted, the youth would be gone.

Because he was stripping the uniform off the chief right then.

He was calm. When the uniform snagged on the chief’s bound hands and feet, he carefully loosened the restraints, while pinning the rest of the chief’s body with his own weight or his feet so he couldn’t counter.

When the chief groaned,

“I’m sorry,”

the young man whispered.

In seconds the chief was naked, and so was the youth.

And wherever he’d been and whatever he’d done, leaves poured out of the youth’s clothes. Clumped, pressed leaves, almost a wad, shedding a grassy smell.

While the chief was thinking how strange this all was, the youth disappeared—taking the radio and the good flashlight.

Where am I?

If he was near the emergency stairs, staff would find him fast; if not, it would take longer.

Since he’d even apologized, he didn’t seem like the sort who’d dump the chief where no one would ever find him.

The chief struggled a few minutes to work his bonds loose, then gave up.

He waited for someone to come find him.

****

Chaos and disorder.

Thanks to the confusion the blackout caused, Jiwon cleared the mesh with ease.

Aside from a ripped suit and a cut left palm, he had no major injuries.

It hadn’t gone to plan, of course.

He should have gone over the mesh to get out—but Jiwon chose the opposite direction. He went over the mesh into the garden.

He couldn’t just ignore the person taken in his place. The guess that it might be Park Geonwoo pulled him there. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He risked it over a guess, not a certainty.

What else could he do—that was his nature.

Jiwon smiled bitterly.

Even if the captive wasn’t Park Geonwoo, he meant to leave with him.

Now that he’d been exposed as an undercover cop, there was no world in which he was safe. He wouldn’t need much convincing either. If anyone knew how dangerous it was to stay, it was him.

The building that had seemed so far was suddenly within spitting distance.

Jiwon hid by the mesh for the moment, then sprinted when the lightning lulled.

He reached the glasshouse first.

Inside, naked men were tangled together. He tried to check faces, then gave up; they were ramming and getting rammed and biting and sucking too hard, like animals rutting as they shouted and laughed. They were lost in oblivion, not even registering the blackout.

Jiwon hoped one of them was Park Geonwoo or Kim Yunho, but not a single Sailor was there. He couldn’t see faces, but the hair length was enough to tell.

He hadn’t expected much, but he was disappointed anyway.

There was a crowd at the center of the garden, too. Whoever had been whipped right before the blackout was still tied to the frame, and three naked men stood at attention around him like sentries.

Beside them stood men who were clearly Seekers and Security, holding black umbrellas. The umbrellas made it hard to count how many.

When the lightning and thunder rolled past, darkness swallowed everything again. Jiwon used the moment to shift positions—this time near a canopy bed.

Lace shredded into rags by the pounding rain fluttered bleakly.

He belly-crawled under the bed to catch his breath.

Lightning and thunder hit again, and when he stepped out using the darkness, the umbrella cluster had broken up. The naked men were untying the one on the frame.

Part of the umbrella group headed for the iron gate. The rest moved toward the building.

To be precise, toward Jiwon’s direction.

Six of them.

Too many for him alone.

He had to get inside the building and hide before they did, no matter what.

All he had to do was slip past the fountain ahead and he’d be at the entrance, so he watched for his chance.

Four Security stood guard at the main entrance.

He was weighing how to shake them when their radios went off.

He couldn’t hear the words, but something urgent must have happened; all four peeled off at once.

Which made slipping into the building a piece of cake.

Had the interior always felt this cozy?

He’d been gone barely half a day, and yet the lobby felt so familiar it almost made him homesick. The air was still fresh; it was so dry and mild he could have forgotten the storm outside.

Water dripped from him in sheets.

He wiped his face with his forearm and thanked the warm indoor air.

If he’d stayed outside a little longer, he would’ve flirted with hypothermia. Forget escaping—he’d have frozen to death in the woods. He clicked his tongue at the thought.

Part of him wanted to shut his eyes for a moment right here.

Idiot.

He gave a bitter smile at how quickly his heart had softened.

He hid his body behind a sculpture.

The lobby was empty. Not just the Crew and Guests in the game, even the Security seemed to be treating the blackout like nothing. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be this empty.

Wary despite the streak of lucky breaks, Jiwon scanned fast.

Where to go—where should he go?

He had to find where the undercovers were held as quickly as possible.

It occurred to him that the doors to wherever they were locked up might have opened. In that case they could already be out of the building and running.

He shook his head, cutting off the foolish loop of hope.

The project managers he’d dealt with were methodical to the point of obsession. Whether the undercovers’ lockup had opened or not, there would be armed Security posted at the entrance at least.

Another bolt lit the lobby bright as day.

If anyone had been here, he’d have been seen in an instant.

Only then did it hit him that the blackout was just a temporary state—that power could come back at any moment.

No time to sit and ponder.

He did have a few hints. The second floor with the dorms, and the first floor with the Big Hall, Small Hall, and other teaching facilities—those were places the Crew and managers would need the moment the game ended, so the odds the undercovers were being held there were low.

Naturally, Basement Level 1 came to mind—the restricted zone.

With reserve staff stationed there on standby, and with the doors likely wide open from the blackout, somewhere down there the four undercovers would be held.

Jiwon found the nearest emergency exit.

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed hard enough to shake the building.

As darkness fell again, he sprinted for the exit.

Feeling along with his hand, he opened the door and flattened himself to the wall.

He held his breath, listening for any sign of life—no telling who might be on the stairs below.

Only after he was sure no one was there did he head down.

Every step, his soaked combat boots made a sticky, sucking sound. He couldn’t take them off, so as a stopgap he lifted his feet to shake off water. He tried to walk on his toes, placing each step with care.

He had just reached Basement Level 1 when the emergency exit door on that level flew open.

“Fuck. Why a blackout now, of all times.”

“Tell me about it. I was about to score.”

Three men came in with bright flashlight beams.

Jiwon pressed to the stair rail and readied to fight. He had the high ground; it favored an attack. Perfect for a kick, especially.

They only had to lift their chins to see him—but none of the three looked up from their feet. They were too busy griping to notice him.

Another stroke of luck. For them and for him.

“Gotta be the lightning, right?”

“Hundred percent.”

“Spin up Unit 2, and we’ll do the restore after the match.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious.”

Two of the soccer talkers teamed up.

The third took issue.

“We still need to check. What if they pin it on us later?”

“Then you take the blame. I’m watching soccer.”

Someone sniped at that.

“The power comes back, but tonight’s match doesn’t.”

Another chimed in.

“They rerun the shit out of games. What do you mean it doesn’t.”

“Same as live, my ass. You don’t know jack.”

“Ugh, you clowns. Maybe getting fired over soccer will straighten you out.”

The stickler shook his head.

The other two traded a look, then jumped him at once, kneading his shoulders and buttering him up.

In the end, the two got the one to promise they’d restore power after the game.

From the conversation, they sounded like electrical techs.

The moment they brought the power back, escape or whatever—game over.

Jiwon changed targets and decided to shadow the three.

Not to sabotage the repair if he could help it—but to wreck the generators outright if he could.

At least to keep the doors from closing again tonight, so there wouldn’t be any place he couldn’t go. If he could, he wanted the bracelet off his wrist too, but that could wait until after he was out.

The techs went past Basement Level 2 and down to Basement Level 3.

The smell of disinfectant hit him hard—probably because of the pool.

Jiwon kept as much distance as he could so they wouldn’t spot him, trailing them down.

Huh? This was definitely a wall.

Passing the Studio where the ceiling had collapsed during the Board Quiz Show, Jiwon found a new space.

That massive Studio built by knocking out multiple rooms had backed onto a wall. But the techs were walking beyond that wall.

Looks like they’d put up a false wall here, too.

He’d known the building was huge, but not that it held this many secret spaces.

He started to worry. What if he wandered all night and never found the man taken in his place—what if he ended up trapped here instead.

Just for tonight, he begged fate to be on his side. Let the luck keep holding.

And, just as he wished, Lady Luck was with him.

He no longer had to worry about power being restored.

He no longer had to go to the trouble of destroying the generators.

Because there was no fuel to run them.

Jiwon changed into the work coveralls of the Facilities power chief and pocketed his radio and the high-output flashlight.

Then he headed back down to Basement Level 3 and resumed his search.

Because he’d found a suspicious space near the generator room.

He was lucky—too lucky—but he didn’t let his guard drop.

The radio chirped.

Naturally, Jiwon answered.

“This is Power Base. I’m on my way.”